at the edge of light
by fiesa
Summary: Leia is reminded of them every second of her days. OneShot/introspection- Leia Organa Solo, Ben Solo.


**at the edge of light**

 _Summary: Leia is reminded of them every second of her days. OneShot/introspection- Leia Organa Solo, Ben Solo._

 _Warning: Angst, fractured, OneShot. Angst._

 _Set: References to "Bloodlines" and "The Force Awakens", set roughly after the movie._

 _Disclaimers: Standards apply._

* * *

„Mother."

Once upon the time, hearing her son call her like that would have lightened up Leia's heart. That time is long dead, and so is the echo of the child calling out to her.

"Ben."

His face twists into a sneer; he does not like her calling him by his given name. _Kylo Ren._ But Leia refuses to call him by his chosen title, whether it is because she is still holding on to the last remnants of her son or because she wants to anger him, to refuse him his self-proclaimed power, she cannot say. But he does not call her out on it, not this time.

"What are you doing here?"

Leia takes her time to answer that question, looks at him instead. Tall, lean, almost spindly, so unlike Han, who is – _was_ – broad-shouldered and strong. Ben has his father's face, though, and, in the past, when she looked deep enough she saw Luke in his eyes, too. But Ben's eyes are cold and empty now, no comparison to Luke's warmth.

 _Luke. Han. I wish –_

 _No._

* * *

Leia Organa Solo, Princess of Alderaan, former Senator, former leader of the Rebellion against the Empire, now General of the Resistance, wishes for many things, and she knows most of them won't ever come true.

* * *

"I wanted to see you."

Ben hisses, a sound intended to be both mocking and threatening. It is neither to her; she has seen him as a child, he is _her_ child. Nothing he can do can threaten her: the only thing she feels looking at him is guilt and sorrow.

"Are you finally discovering your motherly side?" Ah, but his barbs still hurt, there is no denying that. "You never seemed to care much in the past."

"That's not true."

It is not, because she always, _always_ had wanted to see him, had cared for him – how could she not? He was her son, her precious baby. But there was always another crisis, a hidden plot. More work to do, worlds to save, enemies to fight. And then his Force abilities manifested and she could not train him, not in the way he needed to be trained. So she gave him to Luke instead, trusting her brother to love her son like she loved him. Forgetting that teachers could not love their students too much, lest they be blinded by their emotions.

 _Is that what happened, Luke?_

It is her fault.

Leia knows she made mistakes – in fact, her list is so long she could not care to enumerate them. And she is reminded of them every second of her days. Staring down the dark tunnel of hopelessness that is the Resistance's current struggle against the First Order while still trying to rally allies, while trying to figure out alliances and supply routes and rearmaments, while dealing with the gradually decreasing hope of her fellow fighters in the face of their enemy's strength, and all of this while sending out good people to die. Leia reads reports and discusses strategy and speaks to new batches of recruits, and all the while she is reminded of her own mistakes. _My fault, my most grievous fault._ There once was a middle-aged woman who wanted nothing else than to cut loose of her responsibilities to a republic that was quickly heading towards destruction and who yet remained, presented herself as a rallying point and stood her ground the only way she knew to. A disillusioned, broken woman who had seen too much pain already and still refused to fold. And in the wake of her decisions she lost not only old friends and new ones but her son, too, and her brother and her husband, and why is it that she still gets up every morning, that she still gets up and meets with intelligence and military and civilians? Why does she keep fighting?

Because she has to.

Because this is not over yet.

Because Ben is still there, her greatest mistake of all, and maybe, _maybe_ –

Maybe there is still a way to fix this.

"I know I made many mistakes, but I am your mother and I always lo–"

He cuts her off sharply. "I don't want to hear it. You had to do your duty, you had to help stabilize the New Republic, you had to fend off the last remnants of the Empire. I'm sick of the tune, really. You know what one of the first things is I remember? My fifth birthday, and I remember because you weren't there. Oh, Father and Uncle Luke were, but you? Off, for some senate meeting or other. The day Uncle Luke tested my Force abilities? You came when it was already over, even though you had promised you'd be there. When I left for the Academy?" His voice has tightened over his tirade, now he modulates it again, it is almost painful to hear the complete lack of emotions in it. "You guess it: you weren't there. And it wasn't only you. It was Father, too, always running off on some mission, helping young pilots, setting up something, bringing down the other. I grew up between Winter, a nanny droid, Threepio and various other caretakers. So pardon me if I don't really see you as my mother."

It _hurts._

It tears through her, word for word, and it is nothing but the truth. She has spent more time stabilizing a galactic government than she has spent putting her son to sleep. And Han, too: she cannot blame him, knew, from the moment he proposed to her, that their relationship would always be tested by her commitment to the New Republic and his need to be free. He is – _was_ , and oh how it _hurts_ – one of those people that could not be held in one place. It was one of the things about him she had fallen in love with, his sense of duty paired with the frantic urgency to be able to leave whenever he wanted to, to be gone as long as he needed. Leia always had been glad he had turned his back on smuggling operations. It was enough. She could not have forced him to stay with her, it would have destroyed a part of him that she loved too much to change. And, besides, it had suited her, too. She was so busy every day, all the time. In consequence, Ben had indeed seen his parents less than he should have. But he had always been a bright, a _kind_ child, understanding even for his age, so willing to learn and burning so brightly in the Force even Leia, untrained as she was, could feel him–

No need for small-talk, then.

"Why did you kill all the students, Ben?" The question she cannot voice resounds in her head, her heart, her body, continuously poisoning her. _Why did you kill Han?_ Why? Why?

Ben feels it, on an instinctual level, perhaps even through the Force. Maybe their mother-son bond is still there, somewhere, buried under hatred and pain and grief and death. Maybe he just knows her.

"I killed Father because it was necessary."

She had felt Han die: she had felt her son and her husband, both, during that moment. She had felt Ben's wavering, his tears. Had felt his insecurity harden into cold, steely resolution. And there had been nothing, _nothing_ she could have imagined that could have led up to this.

* * *

 _This:_

An igniting light saber. A sound of surprise, still-born on the lips of the man she had kissed so many times and not often enough. Ben's face, frozen and empty.

She can see it times and again, playing out in front of her mind's eye. It is heart-breaking, every time, except Leia Organa Solo's heart has splintered into a million irretrievable pieces a long, long time ago. The only thing that remains is the pain and the memory.

The guilt.

* * *

"But I won't kill you."

There is nothing she can say, at that point, nothing she can feel. "Why?"

"I want you to watch, Mother. Watch everything you ever fought for wither away and die. Watch your precious New Republic drown in blood. Watch your pitiful attempts to revive the cursed Jedi again: I will end them once and for all."

He turns away from her sharply, his spine a rigid, hateful line; he is taller than her; when did that happen? It almost drowns out the sudden terror. _So now you're going to pretend you didn't know what would happen if you sent her out with Chewie to find Luke? Don't lie to yourself, Leia, it is unbecoming._

Just one more thing to add to her endless list of failures.

"Ben…"

"That is not my name. Say it again, and I will change my mind. Do not come back, Mother. The next time we meet you will not walk away again."

And, as he is almost out of earshot, he stops, speaking without turning.

"Did you try to explain yourself to my sister, too?"

* * *

And Leia cannot breathe. Cannot move. Cannot _think._

* * *

"Does it surprise you that I know of her? I even know her real name, Mother. _Jaina._ "

He tastes the name for a second, contemplating, and the darkness within him absolute.

"How clever of you to have her grow up somewhere nobody could find her. Was she your backup child? In case something happened to me? What did you expect to happen, Mother? What were you protecting her from?"

There is nothing she can say. All her breath has left her, punched out of her with something that feels like the final blow. _Coup de grâce,_ she suddenly thinks, the old, Alderaanian word for the final, merciful stroke popping into her head from nowhere. She cannot even say if she wishes for it, or wishes for someone to – Ben–

"Does she know, Mother? No." He laughs, humorlessly, still not looking at her. "You wouldn't tell her. You'd be too afraid she'd hate you, too, wouldn't you? You abandoned her on a Force-forsaken desert planet. How long will it take her to realize, what do you think? Will she understand that you did it because it was the best for her? Because you _love_ her? Loved her more than you loved me, loved her enough to abandon her in order to protect her from me?"

The mocking tone of his voice is killing her.

"Well, for all the good it'll have done her, I guess she'll be dead soon, too. I'll let you watch, Mother, and then you've finally killed all of us. It shouldn't be too long anymore, now, until then the Jedi and this cursed bloodline will finally be erased from the Force."

And then he is gone, disappears into the darkness. Leia stands, unmoving, frozen: if she moves she will break, she knows that.

* * *

 _Ben._

Her baby boy, light of her life, her precious, precious child. How did it happen, how has her beautiful son become this cold, hate-filled person that stood in front of her just now? How could she have missed it, how could _Luke_ have missed it, Luke, who had _promised_ her–

It makes her want to scream, and cry, and rage, except that there is not enough left of her to do so. Instead, she walks back to her shuttle, completely numb, drops into the pilot seat and starts the pre-flight checklist.

Her comm unit buzzes, the hastily blinking light indicating someone has been trying to reach her before.

It takes the last ounce of power she has to open the channel.

"Leia!" Ransolm Casterfo's voice is a mixture of relief, anger and worry and she wants to smile at the younger man's panic. "Force, where have you been? Why couldn't we reach you earlier? We've been trying for the past day to reach you-"

He sees her face and falls silent, and now Leia really smiles. It is a natural reaction, something she learned as a young girl: smile, smile, even in the face of the end.

"I think my comm was blocked, Ransolm. I'm on my way now. I'll send you my flight plan."

Her friend – invaluable, wonderful, clever Ransolm who fought her so hard when they were still on opposing sides in the senate, during the last days of the New Republic, and who has loyally remained by her side since she resurrected the Resistance – knows when to ask questions and when not to. He nods, accepting. "I'm sending you a fighter escort."

Usually she would roll her eyes, softly mock him for being over-protective and overly paranoid, but both of them know the safety precautions are far from exaggerated. But she has no strength left. Ben's last words still circle through her head, his coldness burning her veins.

"Roger. See you in a while. _Mirrorbright_ Out."

She clears for take-off and reaches for the controls to take the ship out of the orbit of the small moon. Yavin Four shrinks behind her, a green sphere circling the larger planet of the same name. It always held all kinds of memories for her, this place of her greatest victory and now of her greatest failure. _Ben._ With shaking fingers, she programs the coordinates of her destination, double-checks, and pulls the lever to jump to hyperspace. Once the ship is on her way, Leia leans back in the pilot's chair and closes her eyes.

* * *

She expects tears, but none come.

 _I don't see you as my mother._

 _Father's death was necessary._

 _I'll kill Skywalker, too._

 _And then you've finally killed all of us._

She has not expected any other results from her impulsive trip, but even accepting that hurts so much she wants to curl up and cry. Wants to close her eyes and never open them again, just fade away and stop feeling. But Leia Organa Solo has lived her life for others, and she cannot give up now. She can just return to the Resistance's current hideout. She can talk to soldiers and plan new strategies with her fellow generals and continue sending good people to their deaths, until they find a way to overthrow the First Order.

 _Until we find a way to kill Snoke and Ben. Come on, say it._

A sob escapes her and she holds her breath.

 _Does it surprise you that I know of her?_

It is over.

She knows with a deep, bone-shattering security that her son is dead, that the person that looks like Ben and talks like Ben and even _feels_ like Ben is dead. What is left is a marionette, a dark shadow of her beloved child, and, for the first time, she catches a glimpse at how he could have fallen, why, _maybe_ , someone could have lured him in in the first place.

* * *

 _Jaina._

Her dream, her wish. Her last, forbidden secret.

* * *

"Ben," she whispers, and hopes, against all odds, that maybe, _maybe_ , he will pick up on her words. She doubts it. She also doubts it might change anything, but at this point she is too desperate to not try.

"Ben, my love. You never had a sister."

It is true. He is an only child, ever was. She has lied to so many people in the past, calling it diplomacy, calling it a necessity. She refuses to do it now. Since Leia left the New Republic, branded as a traitor – with only her few, loyal friends and nothing but their hearts and her wish – she has stopped lying. It does not always go well, but she figures she owes it to Han, Ransolm, Luke, Wedge and Iella, Greer, Joph, Mara and all the other people who still believed in her.

But Leia remembers a dream she once had.

A long time ago, when she and Han had just been married. When the New Republic still was in its infancy and every day was filled with hope, when they had all been working together to create something that would be worth putting their faith and their hopes in, once again. When she and Luke had the time to get to know each other, and Luke began teaching her the basics of the Force. Before she gave birth to Ben.

Leia remembers the beautiful dream of two siblings, a boy and a girl. Twins, growing up beloved and safe and together until everything begins falling into utter, terrifying darkness.

 _I am sorry, Ben. I am so, so sorry._

Leia Organa Solo puts her face into her arms and weeps. The blinding eternity of hyperspace keeps all her secrets, quiet and without compassion.


End file.
